


Constant Conversations

by cathema



Series: Early/Late [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Early/Late Series, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-24
Updated: 2016-03-24
Packaged: 2018-05-28 19:40:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6342424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cathema/pseuds/cathema
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tsukishima didn't know how it all started, but there was Kuroo, Nekoma's esteemed captain, asking for his number. He tried sending irritated replies in an effort to throw Kuroo off, until he eventually succumbed to the captain's allure. And no matter which way he looked, he enjoyed talking with Kuroo on a daily basis. It made him feel more planted on the ground. But he won’t ever tell that to anyone, not even to Kuroo himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Constant Conversations

**Author's Note:**

> Part One of the "Early/Late" series which will contain stories of Kuroo and Tsukki's relationship on one plane.

Tsukishima didn’t know how it started. All he could fathom was the afternoon post-barbeque feast when Nekoma’s and Fukurodani’s captains coaxed him almost forcefully to give them his contact details.

“We just want to be there for our favorite freshman when he needs blocking advice,” Kuroo purred.

“Also, my phone’s new, so I’m building my contact list,” Bokuto confessed.

“You're not really helping yourselves out here,” Tsukishima replied to them both with a sneer.

Kuroo chuckled, shoving Bokuto aside. “Alright, if being honest will help my case better, then…” Tsukishima raised his eyebrow. “You’re an interesting person, Tsukki. And conversations with you are equally as interesting. I’d like to mail you from time to time, and get to know you more from here on out.”

Kuroo drew uncomfortably close to Tsukishima, smiling coyly at the way the latter’s cheeks reddened at the closeness. “So, will you give me your number?”

Tsukishima relented.

And he has never seen an empty mailbox since then. In the beginning, he considered ignoring Kuroo’s messages, but the incessant beeps and vibrations annoyed him more than the Nekoma captain’s “How’s my _megane-kun_?”

He tried sending irritated replies in an effort to throw Kuroo off, but the less words he texted, the more Kuroo did. Days turned into weeks, and Tsukishima eventually learned to accept text messaging as a permanent part of his daily routine. His replies soon turned less sour, much to Kuroo’s disbelief, and more conversational.

Their exchanges usually revolved around volleyball, sports, and each other’s teams. Tsukishima often found Kuroo ranting about his subordinates’ daily antics during practice, but from the way his stories sounded, Tsukishima wondered about Kuroo actually reinforcing the playfulness. In return, Tsukishima would discuss Karasuno’s accelerated improvement apart from his own, and would sometimes kid about him being benched one day.

Kuroo would always respond, “You’re seriously depreciating yourself? Without you, Karasuno wouldn’t last long enough.” And this would make Tsukishima falter ever so slightly, unsure of what to make of this compliment.

Usually, Tsukishima would only reply to Kuroo at the end of the day, on his way home from practice. But as their conversations lengthened, Tsukishima began reading and texting during the day, even during practices.

“Who are you always texting to, Tsukki?” Hinata would frequently inquire.

“Nobody,” Tsukishima would say.

“Well,” Hinata would chirp, “that nobody must be really interesting if you’ve become so vested in talking to her everyday.”

Tsukishima would always resist the urge to correct Hinata. “It’s a him,” he would say in his mind. But Hinata need not know that.

Daichi would tell him too, “I’ve lost count how many times I’ve told you to keep your phone away and focus on training, Tsukishima.” To which Tsukishima would bow and apologize before obediently tucking his phone away.

It was only a matter of time until their texts would evolve to calls, and it was Kuroo who initiated it when Tsukishima asked for blocking advice as per Coach Ukai’s instructions. “It’s kind of difficult to explain,” Kuroo’s message read. “Mind if I call?” Before Tsukishima could even reply, Kuroo was already phoning him. He let 4 rings pass before answering.

“Hello,” Tsukishima greeted, curtly.

“Hi, Tsukki,” Kuroo drawled out, his smirk unmistakable even through the phone line.

The call lasted 10 minutes. Tsukishima knew he should have ended the conversation after 3, when Kuroo had already explained everything, but somehow he couldn’t will himself to.

“Anything more you’d like to ask?” Tsukishima hummed, undecided on what to respond. It was sort of refreshing not having to type lengthy paragraphs, and he was becoming acquainted once more with the Nekoma captain’s voice.

Kuroo, as though he read Tsukishima’s mind, chuckled and said, “If that’s the case, you’ll never guess what happened to me in the subway this morning…”

Calls became a more frequent option for communication, especially during the evening. Kuroo often spoke more than Tsukishima did, which allowed the latter to notice everything about Kuroo’s voice—the changes in intonation, the words he used, his varying laughter. Tsukishima was the type to observe and understand people, and it wasn’t long until he knew exactly what Kuroo favored, what he abhorred, what saddened him, all by the tone, the volume, and pace of his voice.

During the few moments when they weren’t talking via call or text, Tsukishima would wonder why he would even take notes of Kuroo’s quirks, but something inside him knew that it was the only way he could gain better understanding of Kuroo without physically spending time with him.

The most noteworthy thing he noticed was how Kuroo called whenever there was a thunderstorm in Tokyo, and though Kuroo never mentioned it, Tsukishima understood the captain’s restlessness in such weather.

“You don’t like the sound of thunder, do you Kuroo-san?” Tsukishima asked one day, almost rhetorically.

“What made you say that?”

“Sometimes, when you call, I hear the thunder, and you talk softer than you usually do.”

“I see.” From the other end, Tsukishima can almost hear Kuroo smiling genuinely. “Yeah, I hate them. But it calms me down when I get to talk to you. Isn’t that strange?” Tsukishima didn’t reply.

Yamaguchi, who found out soon enough that Tsukishima was talking to Kuroo all this time, would tell him, “He’s probably obsessed with you, or something.”

“I don’t get his motive,” Tsukishima would reply. “In what way am I interesting for him to bother to this degree?”

Yamaguchi would then shoot him a cheeky grin. “You aren’t retaliating, though. So, in a way, the feeling is sort of mutual.”

Tsukishima would sneer at him. “Shut up, Yamaguchi.” But they both could sense the uncertainty in Tsukishima’s voice.

“If it’s any consolation,” Yamaguchi offered. “Hinata texts Kenma-san frequently too. Maybe it’s a Nekoma thing.”

But Tsukishima disliked his short teammate, and he disliked conversing with him casually. So it took a bit of grit to corner Hinata at the end of practice without looking suspicious. “Hinata,” he muttered.

Hinata looked at him wide-eyed. “Yeah?”

“How often do you and Kenma-san talk?”

Hinata raised an eyebrow, then squinted. “Why?”

“Just answer the question, stupid.”

“Almost everyday, I guess?” Hinata bounced a ball. “We mostly talk about games and volleyball, but usually just random stuff. Why are you asking, anyway?”

Tsukishima cleared his throat. “Does he sometimes come off as…” At that point, Tsukishima didn’t know how to complete the sentence.

Hinata stared at him, puzzled. He tossed the volleyball lightly to hit Tsukishima in the head, resulting to a karate chop on the head of the shorter.

“Stop fooling around,” Ennoshita said from the other side of the court.

“Come off as what?” Hinata pressed.

“Uh,” Tsukishima stammered. “Sweet?”

“Sweet?” Hinata looked even more perplexed.

“Intimate,” Tsukishima clarified.

Hinata scratched his head. “That’s a weird question. I don’t think so. He’s just Kenma being Kenma.”

Tsukishima went home that day mulling over what Hinata had told him. “Kenma being Kenma.” Perhaps being strangely intimate was a part of Kuroo’s personality, and Tsukishima was just jumping into hasty conclusions, despite those conclusions being backed by strong evidence. Still, giving Kuroo the benefit of the doubt postponed his planned confrontation.

So the phone conversations continued on.

“You should talk about yourself more,” Kuroo said.

“I’d rather not.”

“That’s unfair,” Kuroo whined. “You probably know everything about me now.”

“I don’t know what to do with the information, anyway.”

“It defeats the purpose of my getting your number in the first place.”

Tsukishima paused. He wondered if it was the right moment to talk to Kuroo about this whole ordeal, until Kuroo said, “The only remotely important thing I know about you is that you’re often lonely at night, and that isn’t even a good thing to take note of.”

“What?” Tsukishima’s eyebrows furrowed. “What makes you say that?”

“In the afternoon, you’re more hostile. In the evening, it’s as though you sound relieved. And I’ve noticed that you tend to change the topic when we discuss family.” Kuroo grinned. “Am I right?”

Tsukishima stayed quiet.

“You’re not the only observant one, Tsukki.”

If anything, it shed more light on why Tsukishima even indulged in such conversations with Kuroo in the first place. It’s been long since he had anyone to talk to in the evening that made him so recluse and dependent on his headphones and music to drown out the silence.

No matter which way he looked, he enjoyed talking with Kuroo on a daily basis. It made him feel more planted on the ground. But he won’t ever tell that to anyone, not even to Kuroo himself.

It had been almost a month since Karasuno practiced at Tokyo when Takeda-sensei gathered everyone around at the beginning of practice to announce news.

“Coach Nekomata ‘s birthday is next week, and the Nekoma team invited us over for a surprise party on Saturday,” Takeda-sensei said jovially. “They rented a small inn for all of us to sleep in. I just need a headcount of who’ll come along.”

Everyone on the team chattered excitedly, but Tsukishima thought about finally meeting Kuroo again that his stomach churned and his heartbeat quickened, and he needed to know whether it was in anticipation of finally confronting the captain, or fear of what would take place between them.

The entire team took off on a bus Coach Ukai rented in the early morning of Saturday.

“Are you excited, Tsukki?” Yamaguchi said quietly.

“About what?”

“You’ll finally get to talk to Kuroo face to face.”

Tsukishima made a contorted expression. “This is so annoying.”

“Everything annoys you.”

Tsukishima shot his friend a glare, but offered no rebuttal.

350 kilometers travelled, and Tsukishima could hardly feel his butt when the team arrived at the inn that was reserved for Coach Nekomata’s celebration. By the entrance, Tsukishima could see Kuroo waving at the bus with his cat-like grin.

“Welcome, Karasuno,” he exclaimed. “Just in time, we were about to set up for the surprise.”

The team proceeded inside with their bags, admiring the interior of the inn they apparently had to themselves. “Yamamoto’s uncle owns the place,” Kuroo told them. And as though it was a summon, the rest of the Nekoma team emerged from the function room and greeted the Karasuno members, some calling dibs on others as roommates.

Kuroo used this as an opportunity to finally get to Tsukishima, his grin growing wider as he neared him. “Hello, _megane-kun_.”

“Kuroo-san,” Tsukishima answered.

“How does this feel, getting to see me again after so long?”

“I just remembered that your face is so displeasing that I’d rather message you than look at your face.”

Kuroo clutched his chest. “I feel so honored to be at the receiving end of your rudeness, Tsukki.”

He threw an arm around the blond’s shoulders, and before he could protest, Kuroo was already addressing the entire group. “Alright, let’s get back to the party preparations! Coach Nekomata will be here in a couple of hours. Let’s move it!”

They all decorated the inside of the function room with streamers, balloons, and a long banner prepared by the female managers that read, “Happy Birthday, Coach Nekomata!” Yamamoto, Tanaka, and Nishinoya prepared the grills on the tables for the simple yakiniku feast, while Coach Ukai and Takeda-sensei went to purchase quality alcohol. Sugawara and Yaku initiated the cleanup of some dusty corners, while Ennoshita and Daichi kept the likes of Lev, Hinata, and Kageyama at bay. Meanwhile, Tsukishima couldn’t shake the feeling of Kuroo giving him sidelong glances every now and then, and he had to keep constant communication with Yamaguchi to calm himself down.

When the evening came, Coach Nekomata arrived and was genuinely surprised at Nekoma and Karasuno’s shouts of “Happy birthday!” as soon as he entered the hall. For a moment, he stumbled, and everyone panicked at the possibility of a cardiac arrest, but Coach Nekomata stood laughing that brought everyone at ease.

It didn’t take long for all the meat to disappear, and for the adults to begin drinking _sake_ and beer, and most had gone off to hit the baths and the communal hot spring.

“Tsukki, are you coming?” Yamaguchi asked, gesturing to the bathing area. Tsukishima shook his head and went straight to his room to change. He still hadn’t an idea how to approach Kuroo, and they haven’t spoken again since that afternoon, so Tsukishima wondered if he was missing his chance to engage in a proper conversation with Kuroo as they did in private.

“Tsukki,” a voice called out from behind the screen door. Tsukishima had just finished putting on his sweater when Kuroo’s head popped out from in between the frame and the door. “Let’s sneak out.”

Tsukishima looked at him incredulously. “Sneak out? Why?”

“I want to spend time with you alone.” Tsukishima’s heart skipped a beat, and he felt his cheeks redden. _How annoyingly forward of him_ , he told himself. _And annoyingly honest_.

He breathed out and said, slowly, “Okay.”

Kuroo was wearing a black shirt, pants, and sandals when he and Tsukishima exited the inn. Tsukishima retained his sweater, put his pants back on, and wore his sneakers. He felt incredibly overdressed for a brief getaway compared to Kuroo, but it was Tokyo, and he knew that the term “overdressed” didn’t exist in their dictionary.

“Where to?” Kuroo asked him as they meandered along the streets.

“Why are you asking me?” Tsukishima told him.

“Is there anything you’d want to see or experience in Tokyo?”

“Nothing in particular.”

“Not even the skytree?”

“Will you even take me to the skytree?”

“No, but I would have considered.”

They ended up in a dessert store that sold parfaits Tsukishima wouldn’t believe were real. Kuroo ordered a strawberry parfait for both of them to share, and sat comfortably by the window, across his companion.

Tsukishima observed how Kuroo ate. He scooped large helpings of the parfait with his teaspoon and hummed satisfyingly when he gorged it all down. His finger was also tapping on the table, and Tsukishima remembered this quirk Kuroo possessed when he would talk about food he wished he could be eating. Tsukishima managed a small smile seeing how child-like Kuroo looked, as he ate the parfait they both should be sharing.

“Hey, if you don’t start digging in, I’ll finish it all,” Kuroo reminded him.

Tsukishima mumbled an apology, and ate a few spoonfuls.

Then, he asked, “Kuroo-san, I’ve been meaning to ask you this, but don’t you have more interesting things to do than speak with me?”

Kuroo blinked at him. “Maybe.” A pause. “But it’s much more fun talking with you.”

“Why is that?”

“I told you before. You’re an interesting person and I’d like to get to know you.”

“Why do you want to get to know me so badly?” Tsukishima tightened his grip on his spoon involuntarily.

Kuroo shrugged. “Because I want to be friends with you, I guess.”

Tsukishima didn’t buy it. Still, he responded, “If it’s any consolation, Kuroo-san, I do consider you as a friend.”

Kuroo grinned. “Well, then that’s great, isn’t it?”

“But…” Tsukishima started slowly. “Your intimacy is a bit much to just want to be friends, am I wrong?”

Kuroo’s smile faded and he stared at Tsukishima who had no idea what to do other than to stare back. Then, Kuroo submitted. “A bit much, huh?” He chuckled. “I’m rather forward, aren’t I? A bit too much, I presume.”

Tsukishima didn’t answer back.

“Back at the training camp, you intrigued me to an unconceivable degree. My stupid mind just wanted me to be close to you, and the only thing I could think of is contacting you daily. I came off as quite brash, and when you tried denying me I wanted to draw even closer to you. It was a strange feeling. You were like a drug I couldn’t rehabilitate from. Conversations with you were just unique, and I couldn’t deny myself of them.”

Kuroo was looking outside the window as he trailed off, and Tsukishima could notice his ears growing pink. And so he asked.

“Kuroo-san, do you like me?”

Kuroo turned his head sharply, his eyes wide and his mouth parted slightly. Tsukishima almost wondered if he had thought wrong all along. But Kuroo immediately changed his expression to one of provocation. “Oh, Tsukishima-kun, it surprises me more that you had to ask me that.”

Tsukishima blinked. “I didn't want to assume that much.”

Kuroo held a steady gaze. “Even when it’s staring at you in the face?”

Kuroo took one last bite of the parfait, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and took Tsukishima’s arm, pulling him out of the café to wander once again in the streets. The weekend nightlife was just as energetic and exhausting as Kuroo, Tsukishima realized, and he began to miss Miyagi’s serenity and lack of bars, music clubs, karaoke joints, and gambling sites. He felt like he was going to be swallowed whole by fluorescent lights, drunken laughter, and whirring train tracks.

Instinctively, he moved closer to Kuroo suddenly who didn’t seem to favor the proximity.

“Why are you so near?” He asked, eyebrow raised.

Provoked by Kuroo’s tone of voice, Tsukishima decided against telling the truth. “Because if I’m getting killed tonight in this godforsaken city, I’ll make sure you go down with me.”

Kuroo shrugged his shoulders. “Maybe it would be for the better.” He thinned his lips and stared at his feet that were grazing the concrete with every step. “I like you very much, Tsukki,” he mumbled. “I thought you knew that and accepted my advances. I guess I was the one who assumed too much.”

Tsukishima didn’t know what to do. He never thought he would lead Kuroo on like that, especially when he was struggling with understanding the entirety of it all for almost a whole month. He did, as Kuroo had put it, accept his advances somehow, though unconsciously. And he knew a handful of things about Kuroo just from their conversations, and he felt rather sheepish that he couldn’t disclose so much to Kuroo while Kuroo seemingly poured out his entire heart to him.

“I’m sorry,” Tsukishima said, as they reached a quiet parking lot in front of a convenience store. A cat was staring intensely at them before it ambled off towards the alleyway. Kuroo raised an eyebrow. “For what?”

Tsukishima didn't know where to start. “For making you think I led you on.”

“I don’t think that.”

“I’m sorry still.”

Kuroo took a seat on the pavement. Tsukishima did the same, and they sat in silence, looking at the dark sky devoid of stars Tsukishima was accustomed to in Miyagi.

“For someone so observant, though, I’m still surprised you couldn’t pick that one up with conviction.”

Tsukishima furled and unfurled his fist.

Kuroo watched him. “I notice you do that.” He gestured to Tsukishima’s hands. “I can hear you tighten and loosen your grip on your phone a number of times when you discuss something that unsettles you.”

“Kuroo-san…”

“Could you stop being so polite?” Kuroo laughed. “Just call me Kuroo. I’d let you call me Tetsurou, but that might make me seem overly intimate, huh?”

Tsukishima flinched at the tone. Even though he does his best to hide his feelings, Kuroo was easy to read, and Tsukishima knew that Kuroo felt bitter over the post-confrontation disappointment. Tsukishima still felt lost over what he should do or say. Deep within him, he knew all along that Kuroo harbored feelings for him, but he couldn’t understand why he couldn’t accept it in the first place. Was it because Kuroo was a man, and Tsukishima never considered a homosexual relationship? Was it because Kuroo was undeniably fetching, intelligent, and far too out of Tsukishima’s league that Tsukishima couldn’t understand why Kuroo had settled with someone like him? Was it because Tsukishima himself was afraid of his own feelings because he has never felt them before?

When did he even start becoming confused over his own emotions towards Kuroo?

He felt so inexperienced, so naïve, so dumb, and it annoyed him greatly. But he was seated on the pavement of an empty convenience store parking lot, inches apart from his senior, away from the prying eyes and ears of his companions and idle passersby, and he couldn't help but feel slightly at peace.

“Kuroo,” he said, taking care to drop the honorific.

“Yes?”

“What other things do you know about me?”

Kuroo eyed him and clicked his tongue in thought. “You’re weird because you like _nattou_. You told me that once, and it made me almost vomit in shock.” He laughed. “You like listening to quiet music. Just acoustic songs that don’t make your ears hurt. I think you just like quiet things in general, which is why noisy people like Bokuto and myself irritate you. You’re always friendlier when I don’t speak so excitedly on the phone. You also have this unique way of breathing when I know you’re deep in thought or reminiscing a memory.”

Kuroo tapped his feet. “You also only ever talked to me on your bed. I hear it creak when you move. I think it’s because you like to focus your full attention on phone conversations, and I really liked that about you. I like speaking with you because you make me feel important. Especially when you study my quirks. It feels so satisfying.”

Tsukishima only ever heard Kuroo speak in such way when there were thunderstorms. Kuroo’s voice was hushed, and he spoke slowly, and Tsukishima knew it was because Kuroo was at his most vulnerable state. Talking about Tsukishima made Kuroo feel defenseless, and Tsukishima knew that. As Kuroo went on, Tsukishima’s heartbeat quickened, and his mouth grew dry. Hearing Kuroo talk about him made him feel equally as vulnerable, as though Kuroo was reading him like an open book when he’s tried shutting himself out in the bookshelf. It was strange, and the feeling he felt was strange, and he did the only thing he could do.

“And, what else, you like dimsum. Mackerel is your favorite fish, which is also mine. That makes you even cooler. How long should I keep going?” Kuroo scratched the side of his face and turned to Tsukishima.

It took a few seconds for Kuroo to realize the closeness of Tsukishima’s face to his own, lips lightly grazing on the other’s, heat rising from both their faces. Kuroo froze as Tsukishima leaned in to close the gap, kissing Kuroo with undeniable apprehension, yet with fervent tenacity. Kuroo could feel Tsukishima’s lips quiver. How cute, he thought as he placed his hand on Tsukishima’s cheek to deepen the kiss.

When they parted, Tsukishima felt ridiculous, but Kuroo smiled though with disbelief. His hand still rested on Tsukishima’s burning cheeks.

“Ohoho,” Kuroo cooed. “So the feeling was mutual, wasn’t it?”

Tsukishima quickly looked away and shrugged. Kuroo chuckled, and touched Tsukishima’s tense hand, waiting for a response. Tsukishima said nothing as he opened his palm to let Kuroo entwine their fingers together.

Neither of them moved from their spot for a long time.

Kuroo was the first to stand, pushing himself off the pavement with a spring in his step. He looked at Tsukishima who nodded and stood, and after patting the dirt off his pants they both began walking back to the inn in silence, arms swinging gently between them. Tsukishima likened the scene to high school students heavily infatuated with one another. _We are, though, aren’t we?_ He told himself. He still felt dubious about the situation, about how fast everything went, how easy it was to fall for such affection. But looking at Kuroo, humming happily at his side, he knew that he didn’t need to (and shouldn’t even) scrutinize every single detail. Kuroo liked him, and Tsukishima somehow reciprocated the feeling through something as inane as a kiss, and they were both walking hand in hand along the bright streets of Tokyo.

When they arrive at the inn, they refused to proceed inside. It was nearing 1 in the morning, and they both felt drowsy, but neither of them budged an inch. Kuroo turned to face Tsukishima, looking almost unsure when he placed his hands firm on Tsukishima’s waist.

He moved in close, pressing his lips on Tsukishima’s. Tsukishima’s breath hitched as Kuroo dragged his tongue on the blond’s bottom lip, and all Tsukishima could think of was the taste of strawberry and vanilla inside Kuroo’s mouth.

Kuroo pulled away, licking his own lips, a coy smile plastered on his face. “I could get used to this.”

Tsukishima lowered his gaze. “You shouldn’t.”

Kuroo managed a weak laugh. “I know.”

They entered the inn, Tsukishima quietly gathering his belongings in the room he was supposed to share with Yamaguchi and a few second years who were sprawled on respective futons and snoring. Tsukishima and Kuroo made their way to a vacant room that Kuroo took for himself, changed their clothing, and lied snug in each other’s arms.

They kissed a few more times, timidly, before finally drifting off to sleep.

 

Tsukishima awoke at 9 in the morning to Kuroo absentmindedly playing with his hair.

“What are you thinking about?” Tsukishima inquired, his voice hoarse.

“I was thinking,” Kuroo started slowly, “that since we’re dating now, you can call me Tetsurou instead.”

“We’re dating now? Since when?”

“Tsukki, seriously?”

“I was just kidding.” Tsukishima rubbed his eyes. “Tetsurou,” he repeated. “Well, in that case, you can continue calling me Tsukki.”

“Oh, come on.”

“Kidding. You can call me Kei.”

“Kei.” Kuroo’s eyes were bright. “It suits you.”

“Stop being so cheesy.”

Tsukishima stared at Kuroo. At his scruffy hair, his shifty eyes, his smug grin. He was, all in all, irritating to look at. But a month full of stories and laughter made Tsukishima see past Kuroo’s exterior, and he had somehow fallen into unfamiliar territory from which he was unsure how to emerge, or if he wanted to do so.

“I also think you’re interesting,” Tsukishima finally confessed. “Annoying at first, but you grew on me eventually. I looked up to you for a while, until I realized that I could look at you at eye level as a bizarre confidante who could tell whether I had a bad game or a decent day just by the structure of my sentences.”

Kuroo was amazed. “Kei, that’s so uncharacteristically civil of you.”

“Shut up.” Tsukishima rolled his eyes. Kuroo squinted, then reached from behind Tsukishima’s head to grab his glasses. “I like you, but you look rather weird without your glasses.”

“How thoughtful,” Tsukishima spat as he put on his frames.

Kuroo smiled at him wistfully. “I wish you could stay longer.”

“It’s a heavy price to pay.”

“But we’ll manage.” Kuroo stroked Tsukishima’s cheek. “You know, I forced the team to agree to invite Karasuno over, just so I could see you. I would always find ways.”

Tsukishima narrowed his eyes. “You’re creepier than I thought.”

“Shush.” Kuroo poked Tsukishima’s warm cheek. “I think we should make the most out of this situation, while you’re still here.”

Tsukishima let out a sigh. Kuroo drew closer to him to say, “Can I kiss you?” Tsukishima nodded, and let Kuroo push his lips against his. And he felt as though he was melting, not from the electrifying kiss, not from love, not from the rush of blood inside him. Actually, he couldn’t pinpoint the cause.

From hope, maybe?

“Breakfast!” a voice bellowed in the corridor. They pulled away at the same time, then let 5 minutes pass before they rose and joined the others.

When it reached 2 in the afternoon, everyone had packed up and gone outside to watch Karasuno leave on Coach Ukai’s rented bus.

“Thank you for the invite,” Daichi said, shaking Kuroo’s hand.

“It was our pleasure,” Kuroo replied.

Everyone bid their farewell to one another, said their “good luck!” for the upcoming Spring Tournament, and continued to chatter wildly as Karasuno boarded the bus.

When the members filed into a single line for the door, Kuroo put a hand on the shoulder of Tsukishima, who was standing at the end. “Kei,” he said quietly. “I’ll miss you.”

Tsukishima raised an eyebrow, but it didn’t stop his cheeks reddening. “I’m just a call away.” Kuroo smiled. “I know. That makes me happy.”

When Yamaguchi had already entered the van, he turned around to check if Tsukishima was following. “Tsukki?”

Tsukishima nodded at him to go ahead, then looked at Kuroo. “You said you’d find ways anyway. I’ll take your word for it.” He paused briefly. “Tetsurou.” Kuroo’s grin widened.

He leaned in for one quick hug, one that wouldn’t have raised much suspicion, and boarded the van to find his place beside Yamaguchi who was smiling at him.

“Why do you look like that?” Tsukishima snapped.

“You’re so awesome, Tsukki,” Yamaguchi sang. “It obviously went well.”

Tsukishima neglected to answer. Instead, he looked at the window, right at Kuroo, who raised his hand lazily to wave goodbye. Still, Tsukishima couldn’t help but feel hopeful. It was only just the beginning.

He gripped his phone tight.


End file.
